Ashes
by candycanecoolio
Summary: Hermione decides to go back to Hogwarts for an eighth year, and realizes she's feeling something strange for a certain ferret that she can't stop...no matter how hard she tries. Please review!
1. It started out as a feeling

It Started Out As A Feeling

Author's Note: I based this fiction on a song by Regina Spektor called The Call. I don't own the song or the Harry Potter series...(if only...but alas! It will only happen when Hell freezes over and BBC becomes nice...)

* * *

Hermione entered platform 9 3/4 hesitantly, still unsure if she made the right decision to accept the offer of returning for an eighth year to complete her training. She loved learning new things, but...this just didn't feel as though she was returning to home, like all the other years. This felt as shough she was returning to a battle ground.

As she walked briskly forward, she spotted Professor McGonnagal, speaking to a trio of confused first year students. Hermione was told to meet her, so she approached cautiously, not wanting to disturb the group.

As she rattled off rules to the first years, saying that they would have to follow them even here, the professor saw Hermione and paused, letting a small but soft smile grace her otherwise sharp features.

"Professor!" Not even thinking, Hermione immediately dropped her bag and gave her a huge hug accompanied by a beaming smile. McGonnagal was slightly taken aback, but hugged Hermione back after the initial shock wore off. As Hermione pulled back, McGonnagal gave her a fond once-over, trying to determine how she'd been doing.

"Miss Granger, please meet me in the very last compartment after you put your trunk away; I must talk to all the eighth years about the new conditions surrounding this...unprecedented situation."

Hermione just smiled more, as she knew that McGonnagal wasn't likely to say how she felt outright, and this familiar fact comforted her more than Harry or Ron could. At the thought of them, she frowned. They hadn't agreed to come back, opting instead for auror training and a fresh, more convenient start.

Her brow creased as she realized that even if Ron had wanted to come, he wouldn't have. And she felt like she was being punched in the stomach all over again.

* * *

_"Why the hell can't I kiss you, __**Granger,**__ you're my bloody girlfriend!"_

_"I don't very well care if you're mad at me, It's just a kiss!"_

_"You need to lighten up, I was just flirting."_

_"I don't care if kissing 'Constitutes as more than flirting, Ronald,' I just...you don't give me that look, like you know everything! You know what? I don't give a damn anymore. Go away, Hermione, get out. I don't want to see your filthy mudblood belongings anymore. We're done."_

* * *

Hermione felt it all over, that pain, and she just wanted it to stop. He'd called her a mudblood. That didn't matter, it was the intent behind it that had. And, for the brightest witch of her age, she had no clue why it'd happened. She came home one day and had seen Ron snogging someone else, and it had hurt. She'd confronted him later, after she'd left and come back home wondering what more they had done., hoping to resolve the situation quickly, and it simply escalated. She didn't know where she'd went wrong.

As she fought the pain and the aching sadness, she saw a few familiar faces, each changed by the strain of The War. She saw Neville, very rugged and handosme, not looking a bit like the awkward boy she'd met years ago. There was Luna, that dazed look in her eyes as she and Neville held hands and talked about Herbology. And there was a pale blond-haired boy standing off to the side, not nearly the picture of self-confidence he used to be. Draco Malfoy.

As she debated going over to him and starting up a conversation, a Red-headed fireball popped up in her view.

"Ginny!" she hugged her friend, happy that she still had a tie to her old, wonderfully full life.

"Hermione, I've missed you! You never come to dinner anymore, the table's so empty, and Mum nags Ron to bring you over and..." Ginny stopped her mile-a-minute review of the Weasley family dinners as she saw the look on Hermione's face.

"You'll...tell me later?" She asked gently, trying to be a good friend. Hermione looked at her greatfully.

Ginny walked away, smiling a small smile she only reserved for her best friends. She went over to talk to Luna and Neville as Hermione stood forlornly among the crowd. As she realized that she wasn't the only one alone, her eyes swiveled back to Malfoy, and she approached him on a strange impulse. She thought she at least owed him that for being the only Death Eater that never killed anyone. _And he saved your life. _She didn't think those words. Not at all.

As she got nearer, he seemed to sense her, turning his head sharply. His eyes looked defeated, though his sneer said otherwise.

"Granger," he drawled,"Finally come to finish me off, eh?"

Hermione was trying to be civil, but she decided that he just wasn't worth talking to.

"Yes, Malfoy, I've come to finish you off. Not because you're a Death Eater, but because you just ooze crappy witicisms."

Malfoy sucked in a breath, not figuring Hermione'd be riled up so quickly. Also, he was trying not to laugh.

"Granger, I've always enjoyed your sparkling wit. Now please stop shedding on the ground I walk upon."

Hermione didn't grace that with a response, just raised her eyebrows and started to walk away. Before she got a mere step away, Malfoy grabbed her arm. She gasped, trying not to pay any attention to the strange feeling that ran through her arm. She felt Malfoy tense.

"Granger..." He didn't finish. He stood up straight and walked away, wondering what the hell was going on.

Hermione finished putting her trunk and such away and climbed onto the express, feeling strange. Opening the door to the last compartment, she saw the few eighth years there. There was Neville, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Blaise, and of course, the one and only Draco Malfoy. Professor McGonnagal was there, and Hermione was grateful that she wouldn't be without a teacher with Malfoy. Sighing, she grit her teeth and stepped inside.


	2. Which then grew into a hope

Which then grew into a hope

As Granger entered the compartment, Draco saw Neville scoot closer to Seamus to allow her to sit between Dean and Neville. He wondered how Neville had turned from that squeamish, stupid little boy into the...person...he was now. As Draco sharpened his attractive face to showcase his attractive features and just be overall attractive, he noticed that Granger held Neville's hand to her chest, squeezing his fingers. She was obviously trying to obtain some comfort, but that sight sickened him for some reason.

As he put that wonderfully sexy smug on, Granger glanced at him curiously, and he noticed something. He had tensed up the moment she stepped into the compartment, and she was obviously wondering what the hell was wrong with him. What _was_ wrong with him? It must be the startlingly dirty germs she'd transferred to his hand when he grabbed her to tell her she should probably stop goading him; he _is_ a Malfoy, after all.

McGonagall babbled on about how the head duties fell to them this year and there would be no houses within the eighth year, how she was trying to do away with houses all together, how he and Granger were head boy and girl and shared a dormitory, how...wait. He. And Granger. Head boy and girl. Dormitory. Draco let out a small squeak.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall sarcasticised. Yes. Sarcasticised. That seemed right.

"Professor, couldn't I just be in the eighth year dormitory, like everyone else, or skip head duties, or go back to seventh year, or die of heart disease..." he asked in his snarky voice, trying desperately not to sound, well, desperate.

McGonagall looked at him with something akin to annoyance in her eyes (hell, akin...it _was_ annoyance) and said,"Mr. Malfoy, no, you _will_ be head boy, you will _not_ shirk your duties, and you may _not_ repeat seventh year. Now, everyone, you rooming goes as follows..."

As McGonagall started to give them their rommates, Draco found Granger's eyes and saw she was amused. She was laughing internally. At him. And she was getting redder by the minute. Draco immediately scowled, and that was enough for her. She let out a loud laugh.

* * *

As Hermione heard Draco's (No, Malfoy's) desperate plea, she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She didn't like him either, but his tone was so desperate, so childlike, so un-Malfoyish, she couldn't help it. And then he saw her and scowled, and that did it. She let out a loud and breathy snicker, much to the surprise of Professor McGonagall.

"Miss. Granger, what is amusing you?" She was serious, but hermione saw the slight upturn of her lips. She told the truth.

"I just find the notion of Mr. Malfoy hoping to convince you to keep us in separate dormitories extremely entertaining."

To everyone's surprise, Professor McGonagall let the amusement show on her face as she turned back to the rest of the group. Hermione's smile grew wider.

She caught Malfoy's eyes again and saw that he was raising his eyebrows at her. If it were anyone else, she would say he was impressed. He smirked a bit and turned away, still smiling.

* * *

Draco felt something odd as he saw Hermione smile at him. He'd never seen her genuine smile, only her angry and snarky ones. He could almost see her now, sitting in the Manor, smiling defiantly with a spark in her eyes as his Aunt raised her wand...and then he could hear her screams.

* * *

As he woke up drenched in sweat, shooting up in his bed, he realized that seeing Granger had jump-started the nightmares, as they usually didn't appear this late in the week.

He got up to go to the common room and heard a noise, kind of like a whimper, and peered around the corner to find Granger writhing on the floor. There was a blanket on one of the couches, and assumed she must have fallen off. He froze on the spot.

"Please...I don't know! We found it in the forest...AHHHHHHH NO PLEASE!" She screamed, and he knew she was back at that Manor, same as him, but instead of watching someone else being tortured, _she_ was being tortured.

Without thinking, without planning at all (which was unlike him) , he ran and sat on the floor beside Granger.

"Granger...Granger! Wake up!" She wouldn't wake up. He got on top of her and planted his knees on either side of her body. "GRANGER! WAKE THE BLOODY HELL UP, HERMIONE!"

The thrashing slowed down a bit, and she stilled. She squirmed as her eyes fluttered open, terrified. She looked around frantically and extablished she was at Hogwarts, then addressed the problem on top of her, that is, Draco.

"Malfoy...what...?"

Malfoy looked around uncomfortably, wondering how to explain, then resorted to his smirk.

"Well, Granger, you..." and he realized he couldn't keep it on when he was talking to someone about something like this.

"You were having a nightmare...and I assumed it was about-"

"The Manor." She finished for him.

He smiled sadly. Then, before he said anything, she spoke.

"Thank you."


	3. Which then turned into a quiet thought

Author's note: Procrastination is too tempting. I hope you're happy. And I want at least 2 more reviews before continuing. Mwahahaha!

Which then turned into a quiet thought

When Hermione woke up with Malfoy on top of her, she didn't know what to think. And then he put that sneer on.

He started to talk. Then, for some reason, he decided to act civil.

He started explaining how she had been having a nightmare, and how he assumed it was of Malfoy Manor. Then, before he could say or do anything to sway her away from the idea, she spoke.

"Thank you."

And he smiled slightly, before realizing he was still on top of her. Clearing his throat, he stepped off of her and put his smug look on.

"Why didn't you say anything before, Granger? Were you enjoying it?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"If I recall, it was your idea to sit on top of me, not the other way around."

Malfoy didn't have an answer that, and simply started to walk to his room. Hermione bit her lip, thought for a moment, and knew she had to say something. She walked quickly up behing him, wanting him to see she was being genuine.

"Malfoy, turn around." She decided to be nice. "Please."

He turned slowly, all merriment and smugness had gone out of his eyes. He just looked wary, now.

"What, Granger?"

Hermione, though it was awkward, grabbed his hands with his hers, ignoring that strange feeling she got when they had contact. She looked into his eyes and said what she had to say.

"Thank you f-"

"You've already said how wonderfully bloody thankful you are to me, Granger." He said in a snarky tone. She ripped her hans out of his, immediately feeling the lack of contact.

"Well, _Malfoy_, I was going to thank you for being civil and having the _courtesy_ to wake me up from that nightmare. But, since you obviously don't want to talk to a filthy _mudblood _like myself, I won't damage your reputation by talking to you any longer."

With that, she walked to her room, not wanting to cry in front of him, and shut the door quietly.

* * *

Draco felt awful. It would have been better for his pride, dignity, and concience (He did have one) if she had slammed the door. That showed that she had the capacity to be really angry, and therefore the ability to calm down. The way she shut the door just seemed tired and defeated, as if she'd had enough of life. And, by association, enough of _him_.

He went back to his bedroom and tried to get some semblance of rest before the morning came. He didn't want to look too closely at the feelings that touching the...mudblood...gave him. He hoped desperately that they weren't what he thought they were. He closed his amazing fantazzmarastical (another word he'd have to remember) eyes and pulled the the covers over his amazing hair and slept, all the while dreaming of girls with brown hair and how the word mudblood didn't sound good coming from even his startlingly attractive mouth.

* * *

As she came into the great hall that morning, seeing the awed looks on the still frazzled first years, Hermione sat down at the small round table designated for eighth years, keeping her eyes cast down. She was still trying not to think of how Malfoy looked at her, how he put that sneer on just for her, just for the mudblood. She felt sick, and she didn't know why. It's not like she ever cared before, the word mudblood didn't even faze her. It's just...she thought...no. She wouldn't think. That would require getting past whatever last night was, ans she was not ready for that. What she really wanted was to listen to some muggle music. Some nice muggle music...but that wasn't possible, as ipods didn't work here. She'd brought hers for comfort, but that's all. And then she thought. Maybe...yes. She would ask, though it was unlikely.

As she was on her way to transfiguration, which Professor McGonagall still taught as headmistress, she was thinking of how she might ask, how she would structure her argument, when she bumped into someone. She started apologizing profusely, then looked up and abruptly closed her mouth.

"Granger."

She just nodded and walked away.

"Granger, I-"

She whipped around, not in the mood for his sarcasm or snarkiness, and certainly not unheartfelt apologies.

"Malfoy, what? What the bloody hell do you have to say to me? Would you like me to prove your theory that I am undeserving to be treated right? Your aunt certainly proved that." She pulled her sleeve up, revealing the letters MUDBLOOD carved into her skin. Malfoy flinched. She hadn't wanted to play that card, but she didn't want to look at the disgustingly to-attractive for his own good ferret.

He became colder, more angular, and she didn't cower. She simply stood up straighteer, threw his sneer back in his face, and walked away.

* * *

"Professor, I was wondering...is there a spell you could do to make my iPod work? On the school grounds, I mean."

Professor McGonagall gave her a strange look. "Granger, is there any reason? And, I assume it's muggle technology, but what is an iPod"

Hermione looked at her feet.

"Well, I've been having nightmares and...I have to share a dorm with Malfoy and...I just..." Hermione forced herself not to cry. She didn't cry. But she seemed to proving that theory wrong as of late.

Professor McGonagall's eyes softened.

"Well, there is something I may be able to do, a complex magic, but it is within my power. And, Miss Granger, again, what is an Ipod?"

Hermione cracked a smile.

"Well, Professor, you see..." And she proceeded to explain the intricacies of musical technology to Professor McGonagall.


	4. Which then turned into a quiet word

Author's note: If you have a problem with me, I am sorry. I don't know what I've done, but whatever is wrong, I apologize. I do ask for reviews because I am NEW to this site, and I need to know if my writing corresponds with the characters or is good enough. I would prefer that you didn't air your complaints in a review. I honestly have no clue what is wrong with asking for reviews. I don't want them to get human interaction, as stated on a review. I will stop holding stories hostage once I am confident in my writing and have written more fanfiction. So if you don't like me, just DON'T READ IT. And, for those who are awesome and nice and considerate about public embarassment, I thank you for listening to my rant. And I don't bloody well own Harry Potter. Maybe in wonderland...

Which then turned into a quiet word.

McGonagall took her iPod to enchant it, as she'd need a few hours to perform the spell. It would, the Professor said, allow a small bubble around her iPod to be considered off of the grounds.

After all her classes, one of which was with Professor Slughorn (for whom there was no love lost) who doted on her and Malfoy. She was getting very tired of it, though it was only their first day back. Then, there was the annoyance of the other kids that she was the "Teachers pet,". She couldn't help but despise the fact, though she was much less sensetive than she was in first year.

She was in the head's common room, fiddling with the headphones of her iPod, too exited to get them untangled. She had her textbooks off to the side, on the table next to the sofa. She finally untangled the headphones, and jammed them into her ears and pressed play, and her favorite song blasted on. She couldn't help but get up and dance around, forgetting who lived quite near her, and sang.

"Shot through the heart,

And you're to blame,

Darlin' you give loooove

A bad na-"

And then Malfoy came in, and she turned as red as a tomato, stopped mid-dance. She was in quite the compromising position. He simply smirked and raised his eyebrows.

She took the earphones out of her ears quickly, turned off her iPod, and started wrapping the earphones around it. Just as she was about to put them away and go back to her room, Malfoy stole it and held it high above her head.

"Give it here, Malfoy!"

Hermione refused to jump for her music.

"Give me a second, Granger, I want to know what this is."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, then remembered what he'd caught her doing, and immediately blushed. Again.

Malfoy must've noticed her red face, as he let out a loud laugh, then chomped his mouth shut, as if he hadn't meant to let that out of his mouth. He refused to ask her what the iPod was, though she could tell he had no clue. She answered what he refused to ask.

"Malfoy, it's called an iPod. It's a muggle contraption that plays music. I was listening to my favorite song when you..." She trailed off.

"Wait, Granger, this is able to play music on the grounds? But I thought-"

Hermione cut him off. "It has been specially enchanted so that a small space around it will be apart from the grounds. And please give it back, Malfoy."

He jammed the earphones into his ears, seeing her before. He pressed buttons and managed to get a lucky hit on the power button. Music immediately started blaring. He looked confused, and the look it gave him...Hermione couldn't help but collapse in a fit of giggles.

"Your...your face..." She was bent over double, trying to get her laughter under control.

Malfoy stood a minute, staring at her, then cracked a smile. He cocked his head, obviously still listening to the music.

"This...this is muggle music? It's _so _much better than the Weird Sisters or Christina Warbeck."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy, pretty much everything is better than Christina Warbeck. And I'm glad you're not entirely repulsed by something muggle-related."

Malfoy flashed a cheeky grin, showing his teeth.

"Hermione, do I give love a bad name?"

She abruptly stopped breathing and went entirely red. She still managed to give a satisfactory answer.

"No, though the sound of it sounds nauseating."

Malfoy gave her a strange look and started unconciously nodding his head to the beat. He really did surprise her sometimes.

"What is this group called?"

"Bon Jovi, it's an eighties group, which means it was made in the 1980s."

Malfoy scoffed. "I'm not so out of touch with muggles that I don't know the years, Granger."

She smiled a bit, and he sucked in his cheeks, as if about to force himself to say something.

"You know, Granger, you really aren't that bad."

Hermione smirked. "And how many points did that statement take away from your ego, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco...Malfoy shook his head in mock sadness.

"Only a hundred or so, _Hermione."_

_Yes, I think I **will **call him Draco, now, _she thought.

* * *

As he went to bed that night, he realized a few things. He enjoyed it when he made Hermione laugh, he enjoyed it when he caused her to smile. She was starting to grow on him. He'd never admit it to her, though. He was the only one in the dorm allowed to have an egotistical mind. He started to drift off, then that song came to the forefront of his mind. He cursed, realizing that he had it stuck in his head. Then he sighed, resigned. Well, it wasn't as bad as Christina Warbeck.


	5. And then that word grew louder

Author's note: Sorry for the late update, I had a five page paper for biology and a project for spanish. And today I sprained my ankle. Darn it. Anyway, happy early mother's day, guys! I don't own Harry Potter...(Though, J. , if you decided to give it to me, I wouldn't say no!)

* * *

And then that word grew louder and louder

As she woke up, Hermione remembered what had happened with her and Malfoy. The incident. And then she wanted simply to bury her head in the covers and never wake up again. She tried and failed.

Well, only two days until the weekend. She tried to be optomistic, to look on the bright side of things. After all, the glass _was_ half full...she thought. She realized she'd fallen asleep while listening to her iPod. As she woke up, the song "Living on a Prayer" came on, and she smiled. She was glad she had gotten that album. As she started to get dressed, she danced a bit.

"She says we gotta hold on

To what we got

It doesn't make a difference

If we're ready or not

We got each other

And that's a lot

Ohhhhhh

We'll give it a shot."

As she drew in a breath for, in her opinion, the best part of the song, and maybe one of Bon Jovi's best moments, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She turned around and saw that the door was cracked. And she saw a flash of white, nearly crystal skin. Malfoy.

She flung the door open, revealing a bent over Draco (she was unsure, now, that she wanted to call him that) with his ear pressed to the space that once was the door. He looked up slowly, his face turning a nice, pleasant tomato color. Good. She wasn't the only one, then.

* * *

She stared at him menacingly, arms folded across her chest. He gulped. Still, he decided to be suave.

"Hullo, Granger. Nice morning, isn't it? Possibly a morning worth _singing_ for?"

She laughed coldly. Wait, that was _his_ thing! He gave a slight sneer. And then, unusual for his beautiful face, he cowered.

"Well, _Malfoy, _I don't know. Would you? I'm sure you must know, considering you wanted to listen to _such_ beautiful music being made." She raised her eyebrows.

He couldn't help but give a snort, and her face hardened. He then proceeded to babble his way out of this situation.

"Well, I just overheard your glorious singing and then decided to listen and then I realized your door was cracked and I didn't look I swear I just wanted to hear your beautiful voice and I...I..." he sighed. Her face was full of amusement and disdain, a bit like she was being condescending...wait...she _was_ condescending.

"Malfoy, I understand how wonderful I am. Why don't you stand up," he just noticed he was still bent over, "And talk to me like you usually do, because this is obviously not your real persona." She raised a brown eyebrow delicately. He just couldn't help it. He really couldn't. Her face right now, her anger...it was...it was...He grit his teeth. He clenched his fists. He opened his mouth.

And laughed as hard as he could, tumbling onto the floor.

"You just...you...you are _hilarious_ when you're angry!" He managed to choke out.

And she really did crack a smile.

* * *

Hermione finally gave in to her lonely side...and sat next to Draco. Yes. It was decided. She'd call him Draco.

"Oh, so you decided to sit next to the pureblood. Did you finally give up your petty little school grudge?"

"No, I just decided to get over my pureblood prejudice. Not all of them should worship the ground I walk upon." She did her best impression of him, using his smirk and holding her head as high as possible. Draco grinned. She'd never seen him grin. And that surprised her.

"Draco, you should smile more often. It suits you."

He went a little pink. "Since when do we call each other by our first names,_ Hermione?_" He seemed secretly happy.

It was her turn rosy. "I thought, since, though you may not agree, I consider us friends. And friends call each other by their first names. Or, they should, anyway."

He gave in. "You know what, Granger, I could dig that. Or should I say Hermione?"

"Really, Draco, dig? That's a muggle phrase. I didn't know you were that in touch with your muggle side."

He smirked and held out his hand. "Hermione, whatever. Let's shake on it. Friends." He wanted to cement it.

She smiled ad shook his hand. A little longer than was necessary, all things given. "Frie-" and she was cut off as her eyes widened in alarm at something behind him. She gripped his hand tighter, and, under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed it. Right now, she seemed really upset, and that made him upset. He'd never admit it, though.

The something was red-headed, freckled, and glaring at them. There was another something that was black-haired and looking down next to the first something. Potter. And Weasley. Ron weasley.


	6. Till it was a battle cry

Author's note: I hope you're happy, I had to do this while I had a bucketful of homework and a dance recidal to do, and it was mother's day. You had better be happy. And please, if you like this story, or even if you don't, REVIEW. But, if you don't, tell me what I could do better. Don't hate.

Till it was a battle cry

Hermione stared blankly. She was in a dream, of course. She had to be. But then, in a dream, she wouldn't be able to feel Draco's hand still in hers. She pulled away quickly.

Draco looked slightly put-out, and then masked his features as he did before he had opened up to her. He gave a sneer.

"Hello, your hignesses, or should I say _Kings." _If it was possible, he smirked...wider? Louder? Hermione didn't know. And Ron glared.

"Hello, Ferret. How has Voldemort's little boy been?" Hermione grew red.

"Ronald, there's no need to be rude. Draco has been perfecctly civilized the..." She saw Ron grow redder.

"Draco? You're calling _him, _the guy who gave you hell for being a _mudblood-"_ Harry's head snapped around, and Draco's looked straight at Ron. Draco spoke first.

"Weasley, I think you should get out before I decide to put that hair somewhere that's not meant to be red." Harry decided to finally speak.

"Ron, I think you should stop and think about what you're saying before you say it." This was odd, Harry usually stayed out of Hermione and Ron's arguments. Ron turned on Harry.

"Harry, I thought we were mates. And you're siding with the creeper? Right. I can see I'm not wanted here." And he stormed off.

"Well, weaselbee is obviously peeved about something."

That was the understatement of the year.

* * *

Ginny came over to the common room later, though it was only for head boy and girl. She and Hermione made small talk until they knew they had to say something.

"Hermine, what did my oblivious, stupid brother do this time?"

Hermione didn't say anything. Ginny spoke softly.

"Hermione, what did he do?" Hermione gulped.

"He...he...I saw him, when I got home one day, with another girl." She spoke as quiet as possible.

Ginny had no words. Then she grew as red as her hair. Then her eyebrows knit together.

"That...that..that insufferable abbhorrent self-absorbed GIT!" She glared daggers at the sofa, and Hermione felt quite bad for it.

"Ginny, I don't...know what he did. He may not have-"

"Oh, like Merlin's smelly left shoe, he didn't!" She looked at Hermione and her eyes softened. "I'll let you be, for now." And that was all Hermione could ask for, as Ginny was obviously going to give Ron the beating of a lifetime.

* * *

Draco heard everything. He hadn't meant to, it just sort of happened. He was by his door and...well. Nothing to do about that bit.

He heard what the Weasel had done. And then he wanted to, for the first time in his life, with his whole heart, kill him. The git didn't even deserve that. He deserved to be hung by his thumbs in Filch's chamber of horrors and beaten with a cane for the rest of his life. Yeah. That sounded about right.

He started to walk to his bed and tripped over his trunk, which he'd never bothered to organize. Ever. And he heard Hermione's voice coming right towards him.

"Draco? Malfoy, are you alright?"

He froze, knowing that there was going to be a confrontation, and knowing that she would read him like a book. How apt.

She opened the door and saw him splayed against the trunk and his but flat on the floor, his hands behing him, and grew stiff.

"_Malfoy_, were you _LISTENING?"_

Draco felt his heart beating erratically in his chest, and he didn't know what to say.

"Um..."

And then Hermione did something that he would never have expected her to do. She shook, and then she started sobbing. Now, these were not quiet, ladylike tears. These rocked her body. He didn't have a bloody clue what to do.

"Hermione, please don't get all _girly_ on me, I don't..." He sighed. She flung herself at him, to his surprise, and got his shirt all wet. Well, he didn't mind as much as he would have. He tried something new, rubbing her back awkwardly. That seemed to help a bit.

"Thank you." She sniffled.

"You are formally welcome," and he meant it.

* * *

Draco knocked hard on the Gryffindor painting.

"Oi! What are you doing here?" The fat lady flinched.

"Just get me the Weasel."

Right at that moment, Weasley stepped out of the portrait. He stopped mid-step.

"What do you want, _Ferret?_" He snarled. Draco got closer, so they were nose to nose.

"I don't care what happened to you, and I don't give a damn why you're such a git. But if you ever do anything to Hermione again, I swear to Merlin I will beat you within an inch of your life. Keep that in mind."

As Draco started walking quickly away, Weasley yelled.

"Why the bloody hell do you care, Malfoy?" He sounded uncertain.

"I don't know." Draco wasn't even sure if Weasley heard him, nor did he care. He simply wanted to get away. To think, to dissect what he was feeling, to figure out what was going on (even an attractive, intelligent young man like him didn't know), and to wonder what was happening to him. He didn't know, and he intended to figure out, maybe even getting Hermione to like him more (completely in a platonic way, obviously) in the process.


	7. I'll come back when you call me

Author's note: Hey, sorry if the characters are a bit OOC here, I tried my best! If you like this story, please review. Thanks for all the follows and views and favorites; hugs to all of you! And I tried for a bit of fluff...hope you like it!

I'll come back, when you call me; no need to say goodbye

Hermione had no clue what was happening. She was clueless as to what she thought she was doing and what she wanted to do. She was like a bunch of debris in intergallactic space with nowhere to belong.

After Draco left, she was left slightly apalled at herself. She had practically tackled him! Well, he was there, she reasoned, and he was nice. A small part of her would even swear that he kind of enjoyed it, and Hermione berated herself. She wasn't, nor would she ever be, that girl who could be fooled by a nice word or gesture. She had made a mistake in the only serious relationship she'd ever had and she wasn't going to make it again.

And then she realized she had actually put the words DRACO and RELATIONSHIP in a relatively close together spot in her mind. She said something she had never said before and never planned to say again. It wasn't that bad, she just never really...cursed. And then she did say it again.

* * *

Draco walked quickly and quietly back to the heads' common room, intending to take a nice and long bath with many colorful bubbles, the kind that made him splotchy all over. Yes, that would help him get back to his normal, suave, confident, amazing, eloquent...the description didn't do him justice, he decided, and so he thought about what to call himself next.

He entered the common room and failed to notice that Hermione wasn't there or in her room and had, in fact, been running water somewhere. He was still thinking about his personal description.

He opened the bathroom door, peeked his head in, and immediately turned crimson.

* * *

The second Hermione heard the footsteps was when she realized that she'd forgotten to lock the door. The second the door opened was when she realized that Draco was meaning to go into the bathroom, and the second he peeked his head in was when she gained her voice back.

"I'm in here!" It came out as a squeak as she dove underwater.

Draco let out a loud breath and closed the door immediately.

"It's closed," he yelled through the door.

She let out a sigh of relief, and immediately sucked it back in for her next statement.

"You could knock!"

"You could lock the door!"

Well, he was kind of right...

* * *

Harry came up to Hermione during breakfast and said that he had to leave. She was confused; she didn't know why he was there in the first place! But, she decided she didn't care, and wasn't curious, which was new for her. She simply had too much to think about.

"Harry, I do hope you've been well and that you'll be well. I've missed you, and I hope you come to Hogwarts again soon." She was kind of babbling at that point, she knew, but she didn't want to be left alone.

"Hermione, I'll see you around." He gave her a small, fond smile. Then they heard yelling.

"I don't give a bloody damn what happened, you just leave her and me and everyone else alone, Ronald Weasley!" Ginny got as red as her hair.

Ron's face got redder and redder, eventually turning purple, and he stormed out without saying a word. Harry spoke again.

"I'll just go...Er. But, Hermione, if you ever need me for whatever reason-"

She smiled. "Goodbye, Harry."

"Bye, Hermione."

And there was one.

* * *

When the Weasel and the Weaselette started arguing, Draco was livid. He heard what the Weasel was saying about Hermione, and this pissed him off. He didn't show it; he simply smirked. And, then, when the bastard finally left, he was extremely relieved. The strange urge to help Hermione was still there, but now the main perpetrator was gone. He knew then that he wouldn't be able, if it was him, to give up and say goodbye to Hermione that easily.

He went over to Hermione soon after, deciding to be a good friend, though he wasn't so sure that that was what he wanted now. He had never felt like this before, and he knew what it had to be, but he refused to acknowledge it. He thought that maybe, just maybe...no. No, it couldn't happen. His mother wouldn't approve, and his father... Well, he didn't care about his father. Hermione was simply a friend. A good, cool, pretty, fantazmarastical, awesome...

He finally reached Hermione to see that she was pissed. The kind of pissed where steam comes out of your ears and everyone else is terrified that the pissed one will then proceed to hack anyone's head off that comes within two feet of them. But, when she saw him, her eyes softened. And then, only then, did he let himself maybe hope that something more than taunting and sarcasticising (that word again) could happen.


	8. Just because everything's changing

Author's note: I've been forgetting the disclaimer. Silly me.

Disclaimer: My name is J.K. Rowling. I first started writing the Harry Potter series in a coffee shop for the warmth and used the napkins for paper. I was a single mother at the time, and the first book was sold for the equivilant of 2000 dollars in America. If you guys believe that, I refuse to let you read my story. Of course I'm not J.K. Rowling, stop asking!

* * *

Just because everything's changing doesn't mean it's never been this way before

When Draco came in to try to talk to her, Hermione felt a little better, which was something she would have never thought would happen. And then she remembered what happened earlier and went completely pink, right to the ears. Draco seemed to remember, too, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Hermione, are you... did Weasel..." She laughed at his lack of eloquency.

"I'm fine, just sort of mad."

"Oh." Then he just sat there awkwardly.

* * *

Her hair was framing her face as usual, but a lock was kind of drifting off from the rest, seeming to have a mind of its own. Draco noticed and reached out to grab ahold of it, expecting her to flinch away from his closeness. She didn't. He gained courage from that fact and scooted slightly closer, expecting her to have gone already. She hadn't. Instead, she did something he would never expect from Hermione, would never have dared think. She smiled warmly at him and scooted closer, putting her head on his shoulder.

He stiffened slightly at first, and then he relaxed. They didn't do anything more, just sat there, side-by-side, in silent companionship. The charge between them was almost palpable. The whole thing was surreal to Draco, he'd never had anything close to it. Eventually, she drifted into sleep, and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He laid her down on her bed and took her shoes and socks off, though he had no clue why. What the hell was happening to him? He was going soft and that wasn't good. He couldn't be his enigmatic, fantazmarastical, beautiful, god-like self when he was tied down! He also knew that his mother would not take kindly to the words 'Hey, Mum! You know that mudblood who I know that always gets better grades than me? Well, I fancy her! Imagine that!'

No, his mother would kill him, skin him, cook him, and feed him to the house-elves. And he had just admitted he fancied her. Crap.

While he was lost in this thought, Hermione had apparently woken up slightly, and she yanked his shirt down to her level.

"Yargghh!" Draco was unintelligable.

"Frassasmalsa." Hermione mumbled. Then Draco realized that she was asleep, just talking and acting while she was sleeping. He smiled and tried to disentangle himself from her grasp, but it didn't work. The woman had a choke-hold! He tried for a while, then finally gave up and laid next to her, shoes and all. He realized that they were missing classes. He didn't care. She wrapped an arm around his neck, pressed her nose to his collarbone, and snored. He stifled a laugh.

* * *

When Hermione woke up, she sensed a warm, soft presence next to her. She thought it was one of her stuffed animals at first, maybe the bear, but then she smelled the cologne that she'd smelled quite often lately.

She shot up in bed, trying to remember what happened, and not realizing that he wasn't asleep. She turned her head to a cough behind her.

"Draco, what the bloody _hell_ happened?" She asked in a kind of alarmed panicked jacked-up state.

"Well, you were upset and sort of fell asleep and you wouldn't let go and I know I'm just so amazing so I decided I would let you keep your boy-toy for a while and I just fell asleep and then you woke up and here we are." He got the words out of his mouth so fast that she could barely understand him. She got the gist, though.

"Thanks, Draco, and sorry for making you my..." She trailed off. Draco smirked, and Hermione grinned. Draco sucked in a breath, pursing his lips, and she wondered why.

* * *

When Hermione grinned, Draco felt his eyes go wider and his lips become pursed, and he knew exactly why. He just didn't care to admit it.

"Granger, what exactly did you dream about? You were blubbering on maddeningly in your sleep. It was fairly interesting, actually," He said, grinning cheekily. She blushed, and he tried a new topic. She also didn't say anything about his using her last name.

"Hermione," he said softly,"What do you dream about when I hear you crying at night?" He knew she had no clue she cried or shouted in her sleep, and so she hadn't put a silencing charm on her room. This always plagued him, as he knew it wasn't Bellatrix's torturing because she didn't talk or beg, only cried and shouted wordlessly in anguish. Hermione stiffened.

"I think I would like to finish the classes for the day." She said quietly and proceeded to get off of the bed. Draco knew that she didn't want to talk, as she was never quiet, or polite, for that matter. For the first time in his life, out of all the things he could feel guilty and horrible and annoyingly self-centered about, he felt all these things about asking her to share her horrors.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," He surprised even himself by using that sentence. What surprised him even more was that he really was sorry. What was the girl doing to him? He couldn't even apologize in a cool, suave fashion. He knew then that she had changed him, and he didn't see it until it was right there. Shit.

"Draco, it's not that I don't want to tell you, it's that I'm afraid you'll make a snide remark or make me puke slugs or something daft and stupid like that." He knew his apology made her feel a little better because she was managing to be witty again.

"Hermione, my father would come straight out of azkaban and kill me if he even knew we were friends. I'm pretty sure this is what friends do. Do you wanna talk about boys instead? As if you could get a good one, as in..." He then proceeded to strike a pose.

"Well, there is this guy, but I'm afraid if I approached him, he would completely ignore me for the rest of his life. He can be a jerk sometimes. But his body..." She pretended to swoon. Draco thought she was talking about him and smiled vainly.

"Oh, Krum, will you ever notice me?" And she collapsed in a fit of giggles and his look turned sour.

"Granger, I think I liked you better when you punched me."

"Did you really?" She asked delightedly.

"I do believe I did." And she thought he was joking. If only she knew. She was the only person who ever stood up to him, and for some masochistic reason, that was why he liked her. He really did. But then he would remember she was a mudblood and spite her for it and all would be right.

"Draco, you asked what I dream about."

He grew nervous.

"I did."

"You must promise not to laugh, and you had better not tell anyone or I'll tell the whole school about how you have a chetah print thong." He wasn't so out of the muggle world that he didn't know what a thong was. On the contrary, he knew and he feared she would do exactly what she said. He gulped.

"I promise."

And then, as if she was a dam holding too much water, the story exploded out of her mouth.

* * *

Guys, this is it. Next chapter the reason (one of them anyway) for the title is revealed. Get ready. I think I was pretty creative with it. Sorry if Draco was a bit OOC in this chapter, I tried. Please REVIEW! I love reading the reviews, even if I only have a few. PM me too, I would like to know what you think of the story! And this is my longest chapter yet, yay!


	9. All you can do

Author's note: This is it, folks. The chapter that you've been waiting for. Are you ready? Are you on the edge of your seat? Well, then, read, dammit!

Disclaimer: My name is Helga, I have 9 children and I live in a shoe. So, sorry, I'm not J.K. Rowling.

* * *

All you can do is try to know who your friends are

As Hermione started, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

"The dreams started after the final battle, after you'd switched sides," she began, talking to Draco. "That night, after everything had been finished and everyone had left Hogwarts, I just stood there, looking at all the damage. I saw the beautiful architecture destroyed, saw all of the paintings ripped and slashed, saw the staircases turned to rubble. Ron and Harry had been off talking to the Weasleys, and they'd left. I was utterly alone.

"I walked through the debris, and I went to Gryffindor Tower. The whole thing had desintegrated, was ashes. I stopped as I realized that- that it wasn't the only thing left without a trace. I knew that everything would be changed. That, though the ultimate evil had been defeated, our lives had been damaged beyond repair. I knew I was already completely broken, that I was left in ashes, too. And this is where my nightmares began."

Hermione willed Draco not to say anything, though she could see that he wanted to make a comment. Rude or compassionate, she couldn't tell with him anymore.

"As I went to the Weasley's, it was put into a greater perspective. I no longer had a family to go home to. I'd taken their memories away, for their safety, and I knew it was unlikely I'd ever see them again. This fact was the worst of all.

"I was welcomed with hugs and food, and I just couln't take it. After I finally got to bed, I realized I was exhausted. It took me forever to fall asleep, though. It seemed that, though the war had ended, my instincts were engraved into my brain, and I was alert. After sitting awake for hours, I finally got to sleep.

"I dreamed. I was at hogwarts, but it wasn't the same. It was eerie, disturbingly so. I ran through the halls, and when I finally looked behind me, I saw that everything I had gone through had turned to ash. I turned back around, and that had turned to ash, too. And then, someone I never expected to show up appeared. I saw a hand with a wand, exceptionally pale, and it started moving. The person stepped forward some, out of the shadows cast by walls no longer standing. And it was you."

Draco drew in a panicked breath at that, sucking in his cheeks.

"You looked kind, a look I'd never seen on your face before, but I wasn't trusting it. I started screaming, though I have no idea why. You tried to placate me, tried everything, but I kept screaming, and I could feel my mind collapsing in on itself." Hermione's voice got thick. "When I woke up, I knew my mind had become ashes."

* * *

As Hermione finished her story, tears filled her eyes, but she continued.

"After that, Harry and Ron could tell what was wrong, but they simply grew more distant. I denied it, but they didn't seem like they cared. Then, we got close again, but there was always that doubt. My world is like my dream. My world is ashes."

Draco didn't know what to do. He'd asked for it, he knew, but that wasn't what he was expecting. She tried so hard to keep her tears in, it was obvious, but one slipped unbid through her barriers. Without thinking, he wiped it away.

"You have some strange dreams, Hermione. I'm afraid to ask what happens after a _good_ day," he tried to make her smile, and it worked. She laughed a little.

"I don't know how, but sometimes...you seem to be able to make me laugh even when I don't want to," She turned thoughtful. "I honestly...feel like...I can talk to you." Ever the brave one, she went on. "I get this fuzzy, warm feeling, and I know that's not at all elegant, but still, I just...I don't know."

Then, Draco did something he promised himself he would never do.

His father, as a child, taught him to hate everything, to loathe everyone who was not of benefit to him. He adored his father, he loved him even, until recently, when he had seen how vile he really was. He had vowed never to follow him again, but now what he was about to do would go against his basic beliefs, the very foundation of his being.

His mother had been slightly more caring, but was spiteful and arrogant. She was kinder to house elves, but just as depracating to them. She took every chance she got to point out the flaws in their work. She had spoiled him all through his life, believing her offspring deserved the best.

At this point, he didn't care anymore. He had realized all the things that were his rock were actually made of sand. His whole world crashed down with one thing remaining. So, after all his thinking. After everything he'd done, after everything he said, still, Hermione was here. After years of prejudice, after eons of hate and torture and spite, she was still here, telling him something he never thought he would hear.

So, he did the only thing he wanted to do, the only thing that really _mattered_ right now was to show her he felt the same way.

So, with no warning, he pulled her into a tight embrace, then he kissed her. He really kissed her.


	10. As you head off to the war

A/N: I keep forgetting to mention that my most frequent reviewer, potterhead (love the name, by the way), is amazing and it feels really good when I get reviews, so how about one or two for the end of school? Pretty Please?

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is infinitely better than I am, so stop mistaking me for her. You're boosting my ego too much.

As you head off to the war

Neither of them mentioned it, they just knew it had happened. Hermione thought that he was in the heat of the moment, and Draco knew that she knew who he wasand wasn't sure he should have kissed her. It was only 3 days into the school year and she was a stupid mudblood! So, weeks and weeks went by without them acknowledging what had happened. They were civil to each other, they were kind to each other, but they weren't quite friends like they had been.

Christmas was approaching, and the famous Harry Potter was coming back to Hogwarts for another unknown reason. Oh, how things would change.

* * *

Hermione was in the common room, the fire warming her chilled bones, wearing her flannel clock pyjamas. She pulled her iPod earphones into her ears and pressed play, glad that she'd had the gumption to ask Professor McGonagall for the spell. The room was decked out in red and green, Christmas colors, and, she noticed, the Slytherin and Gryffindor colors. There were wreathes along the walls and the fire was a festive red, little green specks sparking up occasionally. She'd have to learn that spell.

She was sitting cross-legged on the deep green couch, her textbooks in front of her, a foot of parchment being scratched upon by her quill. She didn't want to get behind in studies even if it _was_ the holdays.

She felt it before she saw it, a presence behind her. She continued, as she knew of no one else it could possibly be. He plopped onto the couch beside her, splayed out on the cushions.

"What is our queen doing today?"

Her lips lifted just a bit.

"Shouldn't it be 'Your grace'? And I'm trying to study, as our N.E.W.T.S are going to be within the next 6 months! I should get started so I have time later to celebrate," Hermione said, determined not to let him phase her.

"Oh, your highness, couldn't you simply enjoy all the Christmasiness about it? It _is_ the most wonderful time of year, after all."

"Draco, where exactly did you hear that song?"

He didn't answer, he just started singing it with a smug, condescending sneer on his face. That expression combined with those words made for fun times.

Hermione didn't laugh, she didn't smile, she didn't do anything of the sort. Instead, she acted mad.

"And who, _exactly, _are you to be slandering _that_ song?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. For once, Draco looked unsure. She was victorious.

"Uhh, _Malfoy, _I believe, _Granger._"

And she laughed and he knew everything was alright.

* * *

Harry potter entered Hogwarts to many whispers and winks, and he started towards the Gryffindor table. He greeted ginny with a kiss on the cheek, to many gasps, and Hermione with an uncommonly large bear hug. This was followed by scandalized looks. Apparently they had nothing better to do than to gossip about him.

"Hermione, how have you been? Has Malfoy gotten to you yet?" He asked anxiously, his face a mixture of anxiousness and apprehension. His hair was as crazy as ever, his glasses askew. Hermione smiled. He would never change.

"Malfoy is surprisingly...different, though the same. He's still smug and aristocratic and haughty, but there's something else, too. I can't place it," said Hermione. At this, Harry raised an eyebrow. He looked unbelieving, though his eyes had something similar to smugness in them.

"Malofoy is being polite?" Hermione chewed her lip.

"Actually, he's being...friendly." Hermione smiled. "He's considering me a...friend of sorts, I believe."

Harry became incredelous. "Well, Hermione, if you say so. Just...watch him, will you?"

"Of course, Harry. So, why are you here?"

At this, Harry got nervous.

"Well, I'm on a mission for the ministry. They think that some remaining death eaters may be able to get inside the grounds with artifacts similar to the vanishing cabinets. I'm here to extract all of them, and...well...we have no clue what they might be," his eyes grew wide," Make sure you don't tell anyone this! The whole school might be running around like with Sirius. No one wants to be locked inside, be useless. This way, no one will grow suspicious and try to hide everyone or anything."

They finished eating breakfast as a group, talking about their lives and catching up. Hermione had no classes until after lunch, so she went back to the common room to study.

* * *

Draco trudged up the stairs after Divination, completely annoyed at the bat-eyed fake. 'Broaden your mind,' was a load of shit. He scraped his toes along the stair's edges, dragging on and on. He reached the top and heard soft singing.

"They handed us down a dream  
To live in this lovely town.  
But nobody hears the music,  
Only the echo of a hollow sound.  
Where do the children go,  
Between the bright night and darkest day?  
Where do the children go?  
And who's that deadly piper who leads them away?  
Together we make our way  
Passengers on a train.  
Whisper a secret forever.  
Promises in the rain.  
We're leaving it all behind,  
While castles are falling down.  
We're going where no one can find us.  
And if there's a heaven,  
We'll find it somehow.  
Where do the children go,  
Between the bright night and darkest day?  
Where do the children go?  
And who's that deadly piper who leads them away?"

Draco wasn't quite sure what the meaning of the song was, but it made his eyes ache, which he knew meant he would have to supress tears. Hermione was sitting on the couch, and he saw something glisten, like a tear, but he couldn't be sure. He saw her quietly set the iPod thing down and put her notebooks down. She set them on the table in front of the chairs and stood up. She went up to her room silently and shut the door with barely a sound heard.

Draco didn't know what to think. He knew it would be awkward comforting her, but he had a strange, silly urge to do it. He couldn't get those words out of his head. It wasn't necessarily the words themselves, it was their unintentional second meaning. It was how he knew she was up in her room staring quietly at a wall. After hearing something like that after what she'd been through, there was nothing else to be done. He knew the feeling.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in her bedroom, hoping no one bothered her, staring quietly at a wall. She didn't know why she felt numb, she just did. She had never expected that song to come on, and for it to effect her so much. The song had been just what she felt, it embodied her feelings. She felt as though she had something she never knew she had and then had it silently ripped away, leaving her confused as to what had happened in the first place. She knew this feeling. She'd felt it after the first dream, after the final battle.

She was sitting there for five minutes, or ten, or twenty, or a day, when she heard the squeak of a door opening. She didn't acknowledge it, just flinched a bit. She knew who it had to be.

"Hermione?" He called softly. She didn't answer, but he didn't care, apparently. He just walked right in. The bastard.

"Ever heard of knocking, Malfoy?"

He didn't say anything. He picked her up by her arms, sat her on her bed, and sat next to her. He didn't make any physical contact with her, just sat there. And she was grateful.

* * *

A/N: Guys, sorry it's so late, and I promise I haven't dropped this or my other fic. Just, it's been really hectic lately and I'm having writers block and other stuff. Thanks for your support and, again, please click that lovely, gratifying button at the bottom and make me a happy girl!


	11. Pick a star on the dark horizon

A/N: I AM SO SO SORRY. I went on a week long camping trip and before that, I had writers block. Please give me feedback as to what you think, I've tried to change his character slowly and surely. I am not sure as of yet, but I think there may be anywhere from 5 to 10 chapters left. Also, I'm in the process of writing a minor book, not my major one, on a website called noveljoy and it's called Folklore, and my name is candycanecoolio. I'm hoping to get the first chapter up by the end of this month and enjoy the chapter!

Pick a star on the dark horizon

Hermione fell asleep on his shoulder. It wasn't the ladylike kind of sleep either. It was the snoring, drooling, moaning kind. The kind where he had to suppress his laughter as she grabbed hold of his arm and mumbled something into it.

All of a sudden, she stopped moving. She moaned into his collar bone. Draco smirked, wondering what comments he could make about her supposed fetish for his collarbone. Then she started speaking.

"No. Don't-"

"Stop!"

Then she screamed. A blood-curdling, bone-chilling, heart-wrenching scream.

As Draco moved to wake her up, she sat up and her eyes fluttered open. She looked all around her room wildly, then she looked at him and stood up. She glared and whipped out her wand and, backing away, and aimed it at his heart.

"Don't. Talk." She backed away further, hated pulsing off her every move. "You. Get. Out."

Draco stood up and moved forwards. He spoke in the same tone of voice she was using. "No. It was a dream. You. Are. AWAKE."

She looked wildly around the room again, then at him. Understanding and relief replaced the hatred in her eyes. She moved forward so there were only six inches between them. He moved even closer. Five. Four. Three. She looked up at him.

"If you hadn't brought me to my senses, I probably would have gone on with that for a while. My mind is stubborn. So thanks."

Draco looked down at her and, for the first time in his life, spoke his mind.

"Don't. Don't thank me." She looked at him like she was upset and started to walk away.

"I should be thanking you. You accept me. You've kept me going for a while. No one else does. So thanks. "

He knew he shouldn't have said something so revealing about himself, something so risky. But he didn't care. For once, he cared about someone other than himself. He cared about the quietly beautiful, imperceptably broken girl in front of him and knew she needed to see someone else was as messed up as she was, no matter how selfish it may have been. And he was broken. He simply didn't show it.

She turned to him with an unreadable expression on his face. She didn't cry. She wasn't a crying person. She didn't shake hands weakly like most girls. She was strong. She wasn't dramatic. She was her. So, she did something that only a true, brave Gryffindor could do. In that moment, she hugged Draco Malfoy. And, to both of their surprise, he hugged her back. And in that moment, Draco Malfoy knew he had to tell her.

He looked around her room. He saw the unintentional chaos, but the organization that went with it. He looked at her unmade bed and her drawers, with her clothes hanging out of it. Her bed wasn't red and gold as he had thought, it was blue and green. She must have changed it, as his was green and silver. Then he looked at her. He looked at her warm brown eyes, her bushy hair and almost too perfect teeth. He looked at her laugh lines and dimples and wrinkles in her forehead from raising her eyebrows. He saw her. And then he said those fated words.

"I like you."

Hermione flinched back from him slightly, and she had a hopeful but disbelieving look in her eyes.

"You swear?"

He smirked his trademark smirk.

"Yes, I swear. Haven't you heard me before? Damn, shit, the works. I've even used the super bad ones. Wanna hear?"

She smiled and hugged him tighter, then kissed him on the cheek. It was better than a full on kiss because it was sweet and soft and conveyed what she wanted.

"Me, too."

Then he smiled a full-on smile and cupped the back of her head with his left hand and the back of her neck with his right. He brought their foreheads together, then grabbed her shoulder and pulled her mouth to his. Hermione put her arms around his neck, resting them on his shoulder blades. She sighed into his mouth. They didn't move their mouths, just stayed like that for an undeterminate amount of time. Draco pulled back slightly, resting his forhead on hers once again.

"So what does this mean?" He said softly.

"I don't know, but I'm not looking forward to telling Harry."

At this, they both had to laugh.


	12. And follow the light

A/N: Soooooooooooo sorry, guys. I've been really busy with marching band and I broke a part of my wrist and a hundred other things as well as writer's block, and I've been dying to update. As always, thanks to all reviewers and please review this, it put my wrist through hell to type this up.

* * *

And follow the light

Hermione's and Draco's relationship wasn't normal. It was full of strange occurences and oddities, and so many people wondered how it had happened in the first place. Harry, who was still looking for the mysterious artifacts that could transport death eaters back and forth, just hoped to Some Powerful Being that they would break up soon. Oh, how he hoped. But, sadly, for then, it was not to be.

Harry was searching and searching, but he couldn't find any trace of the evil artifact that the ministry insisted was there somewhere. He doubted completely that there was any real artifact like that, just like he doubted that he'd ever find it. Harry wasn't very confident in himself. Everyone else seemed to be, but he wasn't. It just wasn't how he was.

He was wandering down, or should he say up, to Ravenclaw tower one day, simply musing the fact that the life he'd dreamed of wasn't quite as he'd hoped it would be, when he ran straight _through_ the ghost of the Bloody Baron. The chill that enveloped him completely surprised him, and he turned around and looked up at the Bloody Baron.

"What are you doing here?"

The baren looked at him with an unfathomable expression in his eyes, a sort of longing and jealousy and curiosity all in one. He raised an eyebrow coldly, arrogantly, and answered.

"I have free realm of this castle. What are _you_ doing here?"

At this, Harry became reluctant. The Baron was always a symbol of creepiness in his childhood, a mysterious figure full of esoterically disturbing myths and legends, and the real story was even creepier. He'd murdered Helena Ravenclaw, and then killed himself out of guilt, thus he was forced to wear the guilt chains for the rest of...time? Harry hadn't a clue.

Harry started to forget about the questions, simply brushing past the baron, when he heard a click and a creak.

He turned around and the baron was gone, but a portrait was opened, a portrait he'd never seen in all his time at Hogwarts or after. Harry knew he should have turned around. He knew he should run away and never come back, as mysterious doors never led to good things; on the contrary, whenever Harry encountered mysterious doors, they led to sadness and death and creepiness and all of the other bad things in life. Therefore, it would be quite logical to turn around, quite intelligent, even. But Harry was Harry, and he didn't like to admit it, but he had a sort of Hero complex. This prevented him from turning around when he should, and he wasn't able to ignore things that should be ignored. So, Harry being Harry, he walked over to the door.

Harry would never be able to tell anyone how he felt the moment the door was opened, but it was some twisted, deranged form of glee that no one could ever describe. And then it was instantly replaced with terror, because inside that door was something no one should ever have to see.

* * *

Hermione liked to think she knew a bit how Harry felt. She was the cause of rude stares and the turning of heads, the sniggering and the chortling. Hermione had become the epitome of fame, and she didn't like it one bit.

Draco, however, was walking on air. He didn't really care about the other Slytherins anyway, so he was just acting regularly except for the stupid, lovestruck grin on his face. Some of the first years seemed frightened of his guise, but he didn't care at all. On the contrary, every single thing seemed only to contribute to his happiness, though the teachers seemed a bit put-off for his upbeat mannerisms. They were used to him sullenly sulking in a corner, not answering questions and participating enthusiastically.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall called reluctantly.

"It's the lorexium complex, right?"

McGonagall looked stunned, and Draco laughed gleefully inside.

Hermione and Draco were walking back to the head dorms together when they were confronted by the Bloody Baron, and Draco's mood was instantly changed, while Hermione's simply worsened. Draco called out tentatively.

"Hello, Baron. What is it?"

The Baron sighed sadly and pointed upstairs, looking a bit scared, and this had a great effect on Draco. He knew that if the Bloody Baron was scared of something, there was a force to be reckoned with somewhere.

Hermione heard a small-sounding click, then a squeak. She started running up the stairs. Then, she heard a yell that pierced her heart. She knew that yell. She'd heard it a hundred times at least while out in the wild searching for horcruxes. It was Harry.

* * *

A/N: Again, please review!


End file.
